


Making a Right

by MiraMira



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: 1000-3000 words, F/M, Family, Female Protagonist, One Shot, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-26
Updated: 2010-01-26
Packaged: 2017-10-06 17:43:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiraMira/pseuds/MiraMira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alice Longbottom is an Auror.  She's also an idealist.  What happens when the two sides of herself come into conflict?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making a Right

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a Hogwarts_Elite contest

When Alice hears rumors about the new latitude Crouch plans to give the Aurors in the wake of Edgar Bones's murder, she refuses to believe them. When they turn out to be true, she almost quits in protest. Almost. She's already fought too hard for the field job they tried to make her give up after she and Frank got married. If she's suddenly seen as not willing to give her all to the cause or paralyzed by nerves, they'll cut back on his assignments, too. And with Edgar gone, the Order needs them both active more than ever.

Still, when Moody sends around the notices that mandatory training sessions will begin the next day, she feels a wave of nausea so strong that she considers calling in legitimately sick. Three curses. Four words. Taken separately, each of them comprises hundreds of case files, dozens of families broken, innumerable tears shed. Together, they tell a twisted story of suffering beyond imagining.

She signed up to hunt down the villains responsible for this dark legacy. Now, she is expected to join them.

Frank doesn't understand her reluctance, she learns at dinner that night. "A bad Splinching can be just as fatal, Liss," he reminds her, after asking why she's not eating and receiving an earful in reply. "Lots more pain and blood involved, too. By all accounts, most of the victims of the Killing Curse never even know what's hit them. You could even say it's…"

Whatever it is, she doesn't allow him to say it. Instead, she upends her plate as she slams down her hand, leaves the table, and tosses his pillow down the stairs to let him know he'll be sleeping on the couch.

As she lies awake alone that night, though, she reconsiders. Frank is right: there are hundreds of ways to die, and she learns new ones every day from the reports that come across her desk. It takes a particularly depraved mind to come up with a way to slowly liquefy someone's vital organs or transfigure a windpipe. Anyone can look up a straightforward Dark curse in a book.

She still feels a bit queasy the next morning, but meets him at the foot of the stairs with a kiss and suggests they Apparate into work together. He looks simultaneously surprised and relieved.

The training room is more crowded than she's ever seen it: so crowded she wonders how they're going to be able to practice. The Minister, Crouch, Amelia Bones, and a few of the other higher ups are there, too. Moody, who's apparently been designated instructor, stands at the center of the ring of observers. He doesn't look happy about the task.

"I don't expect any of you to be good at this on your first try," Moody tells them. "If you are, I'll see that you're reassigned to Azkaban duty until it's out of your system." There is nervous laughter all around, which he ignores. "We're going to start with the Cruciatus." He takes a small cage with a black rat inside it from Crouch. The rat bears an unfortunate resemblance to Alice's childhood pet, Sooty. She feels the nausea beginning to rise again, even stronger this time.

"You all know how to cast a Patronus?" Moody asks, without allowing an opportunity for a response this time. "'Course you do; it was on your NEWTs. This is the same principle. But this time, instead of thinking sugar and spice and everything nice, find your deepest, darkest, most vicious thoughts - the ones you barely dare to think, they're so full of rage." His eyes drop to the floor as he says this, Alice notes; when he lifts his gaze again, it is focused entirely on the rat. "Then go to. _Crucio!_"

The rat shrieks, convulses, and collapses. There are more than a few gasps from the crowd. Alice thinks she hears Crouch among them.

"It's only fainted," Moody informs them as he pokes the rat with his wand. Sure enough, it stirs, then feebly struggles to its feet. "That's how the Cruciatus works: torment without killing. So long as there's an ounce of strength left in the victim, he'll stay alive for the caster to use the spell again. His mind may be completely gone, but as long as there's a warm body, the Cruciatus doesn't care."

With the rat standing again, Moody scans the crowd. "Anyone want to give it a try?" His eyes stop on Alice's. She suspects he must take her fatalistic expression for resolve, because they stay there. "How about you, Longbottom?"

Frank squeezes her hand. She notices his fingers are trembling. Gently breaking the hold, she walks forward, readying her wand.

Moody hands her the cage, then steps back. "Remember. Think angry."

Alice closes her eyes. She thinks of past cases: the Ipswitch Disembowler, the ring of child kidnappers, the man convinced he was King of the Werewolves. She thinks of Edgar showing off his youngest's christening photos, and Crouch's self-satisfied look in the picture accompanying the announcement of the regulations change in the Prophet. She thinks of men in masks and green flashes rending the air. She opens her eyes and raises her wand. "_Crucio!_"

Something twists inside her, and she faints.

The spell didn't backfire and cause her to faint, she and Frank learn when she comes to in the mediwitch's office. And her upset stomach isn't the result of any recent assignments. She's ordered to drink her milk, eat her vegetables, and limit her Apparating, then congratulated and sent on her way.

Frank walks beside her quietly. She thinks he's still stunned by the news, until he finally speaks. "I'm not going to do it."

"What?"

"The spells. They can fire me if they want, but I'm not going to cast them." He stops and takes her hands in his. "I want our child to grow up in a world protected by love. Not one where we have to stoop to the monsters' level."

The prospect of such a world is at once more vivid and more unthinkable to her than it had been even a few hours before. Nonetheless, she smiles up at him. "At least he'll always know love from us."

Frank returns the expression. "Always."


End file.
